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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chai)r!??..'.7c^^ight No. 

ShellLG-S-T ^3 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



^' MAR 



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R Fait? praud. 



A PLAY 



a» (5lanviUe< 



AUTHOR OF ' 'IN LAMECH S REIGN, " "AN EYE FOR AN EYE, 
"CHAIN OF HISTORY," ETC. 



CHICAOO: 
1897. 



KA^^ INCLC2 ^ *z 






■U2S 



COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY A, GLANVILLE 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



I have always endeavored to avoid trespassing upon 
the rights of others, be they with or without friends, 
and hence I deem it necessary to say, briefly: 

First, the theosophical paragraphs, put into the 
mouth of Adele, in act II, scene I, which are quoted, 
are not mine nor do I lay any claim to them. I have 
seen fit to use them because theosophists are better able 
to portray their own ideas than I. and because they 
could not then have grounds for misrepresentation. If 
it be considered unfair to choose but few saying among 
many, I will say to those who would have the setting 
with the jewels, the articles can be found in their en- 
tirety in M-rcury, Vol. Ill, No. 3. and Notes and Qzieries, 
Vol. XIV, No. 10. 

Second, I have been influenced somewhat in act III. 
scene I. i. e.^ the gipsy entertainment, by that familiar 
play '-A Parlor Match.'' Men of means being those 
who contribute most to the success of the drama, and 
the majority of them being students of business and not 
of books, it is but fair that we offer some various amuse- 
ment, which is the want of their holiday humor, and 
without which the best of plays grows tedious and dull. 
There being many tastes among men, and critics being 
but a small division, it is a question of the day whether 
we should please them or please the multitude. But if 



art may be so combined with simplicity as to arouse 
both love and laughter, and point to virtue while we 
entertain, then is there added to a misty world some 
brightness, which, I am bold to say, is the object of all 
art. 

If there be other things found in the following lines 
that others have said before me, they may be the glean- 
ings from books that have lingered too long in my mind, 
whose sources have become forgotten, and are rather 
the thefts of time than intention. 

I beg the public's pardon for putting upon their 
much taxed patience another book, of which 

I am, 

THE AUTHOR. 

AHgust 30th, 1897. 



A FAIR FRAUD. 



DRAMATIS PERSON^E. 

Adele, an heiress. 

Madame Nevell, Adele's stepmother. 
MoRissEAu, Adele's lover. 
Mr. Steward, Adele's uncle. 
Mrs. Steward, Adele's aunt. 
Harford, Morisseau's friend. 
Carroty, a gardener. 
Waiting Woman. 

Servants, woodmen, gipsies, lunatic, etc. 

Scene: First, a city tnansion and surroundings ; seconds 
a country home and woods near it. 



ACT I. 

Scene I. A walk near the Nevell mansion. 

Enter Adele. 
A. If he truly loves me — if — if — 
O, what a word is if! The little big 
Conjunction of our doubts. Who was it put 
That stammering word into our steady speech? 
If — he sware he loved me and his look 
Betrayed no other thought, but yet many 



8 A Fair Fraud. 

A maid has been so fooled before. If he 
Loves me as I love him, with all my heart, 
My soul, my life — if it were not for if 
How happy I could be. How shall I know? 
I am a day of June in autumn's woods 
And do not know the pathway back to summer. 
Enter Madame Nevell, attended. 

M. N. Well, well! your cheeks are tinted 
of the rose, 
A lesson in delsarte? 

A. No — no. 

M. N. You may 

Depart, I've other company. 

\_Exeunt attendhnts. 
Perhaps 
There's some relation 'twixt your blush and our 
Young friend's departure. 

A. Why, think you my blood 

Is quickened when a man do leave the place? 

M. N. I do not know, indeed — how should 
I know — 
And yet I think my guess is rather shrewd. 
We all do love sometime, and oftenest 
Before we count full score. I hope you will 
Not prove so stoical as be exception 
To the rule. 

A, As it do please you then, 

I am in love. 



A Fair Fraud, g 

M. N. Why so was I long since. 

A. Young Morisseau, whose going you did 
note, 
Wafted his heart to me upon his sighs, 
When he some moments since asked me to be 
His bride. But I — I did not know — I would 
Have answered yes, I longed to answer ye«, 
But that old saying ever kept ringing 
Upon my ears, ''men are deceivers ever," 
So I said — I know not what I said, 
That when he called again I'd answer him, 
Or something like to it, and so he went. 
And then you came before I had decided 
To be miserable with my doubt 
Or happy with my love. Would that I lived 
Before men were dishonest, or that 1 
Ne'er heard the old, sage adages about 
The lies of lovers. 

M^ N. Time enough, my love; 

Enter Harfoed behind^ unobserved. 
When you get husbanded, if God do bless 
You with a gray old age, you'll be a long 
Time married. 

A. So it is, indeed, that I 

Would know, and surely know — but how? If I 
Say "no" I will so surely be not happy, 
Thus do I not gain my happiness 
By saying "yes" I can console myself 



10 A Fair Frmid. 

With thoughts of how it would have been no 

better 
Saying no. 

M. N. Twin sister that to grief. 
Here is another, better way: see you 
How far his love will take him from his com- 
fort. 
Test his love, my dear. To try all things 
Is a good christian rule. Affect that you 
Are drawn toward some hobby: woman's rights, 
Or politics, or such, if he do love 
You he will love you still. Is it a thing 
Of little moment to him soon the sham 
Of seeming ardor will come out like elbows 
From a beggar's ragged coat. Is not 
The plan some good? And if it but be played 
With passing wit there's sport between the 
lines. 
A. Kind fortune! only yesterday I had 
A letter from my uncle asking me 
To spend some little time among my friends 
Within his home. I will go bring it now — 
How chance arranges for fond lovers' good! 
I will go to to my uncle's. When he comes 
You shall say I have suddenly took up 
With this or that, as we agree, and send 
Him on to me. Then will I put the test 
To see if love or honest doubt were best. {Exit, 



A Fair Fraud, u 

M. N. 'Tis hard to hide your hatred 'neath 
a mask — 
I hate the giddy cat! O, was there e'er 
Stepdaughter loved by a stepmother yet? 

She thinks I love her, ah! she thinks I do 

Would that she had no recourse but her thoughts! 
But yet I must not give my passion vent 
For she hath rights in law as well as I. 
I must be affable and wait my day, 
Who knows? perhaps it is the morning now. 
And so this fine young gentleman loves her 
And she loves him. What then? Why he being 
A promising young man I have no doubt 
They would be happy too. What then? Why 

then 
By doubling up, to gain this fair estate 

She gives me half the chance. Ah, no! not so 

I'd rather my young bird were left alone. 
Come out my scheming nature let me see 
How on this bloom I can a cold frost be. 
Enter Adele. 
A. Here mother mine, a few, scant lines in 
all. 
But yet they mean some more than that to us. 
M, K. Why here's a plan already made for 
us, 
All that we have to do is follow out 
The lines. Unto your uncle you shall go; 



12 A Fair Fraud, 

Here we begin. Then shall you be whate'er 
You choose, no matter what so long as it 
Be tedious and odd. Then will I send 
Some information of your mental state 
Unto your uncle. Do we not run on 
With polished smoothness? 

A, So indeed we do — 

And Mr. Morisseau? 

3/. /V. O, yes — (aside,) poor fool — 

1 had best put his name in every word 
Or so to please her. 

A. The rest of your plan 

Mother. 

M. iV. 'Tis this — a moment's reflection 
Sometimes saves the labor of a day — 
Some few days since I read of a new, strange 
Religious sect they call theosophists. 
Now shall you be converted to this thing.. 
Kead all such books and papers you may read- 
As bear upon it. Study them as you 
Would play a part. Think you the plan i^ 
good? 

A. O, I will play it well though he be my 
Sole audience! 

M. N. So far is settled then: 

That you unto your uncle go; that you 
Affect this new religion hath quite stirred 
You up. So when he comes I will explain 



A Fair Fraud, ij 

To him you have inherited some taint 
Or humor in the blood; your father was 
Too frenzied in religion or your elder 
Brother was fanatic, or the like. 
Now this is a most excellent plan indeed. 
A. So shall the summer fly as 'twere a jokel 
M. N. (Aside.) So shall my autumn frost 
your hajjpiness 
If well I play my part. Well, all is settled 
Then. Come, dear, let no more hours slip. 
Straightway we'll make you ready for the trip. 

l£Jxeu7it. 
Enter Harfoed. 
H. 'Tis true if something be not slipped 
Then someone surely will be tripped. 
^'I hate the giddy cat!" 'S blood! Had she 
been a lady barber there would have been more 
throats cut. I came not here to hear, but beincr 
here I did not stop my ears. Silence is golden, 
a good listener is one among many and 'tis bad 
manners to interrupt your elders. As I am a 
gentleman I kept still, w^hich is of tentime a very 
hard thing to keep. Thus do we gather wis- 
dom from those who talk too much. Now is 
it so and so: this fair maid is my friend Moris- 
seau's love; he loves her and she him; why 
don't they marry then? Ah, there's the rub I 
Because she hath somewhat of woman's pride 



14 A Fair Fraud, 

and more of woman's doubt. Well, well. So 
she would test his true intent and see how far 
his love will wait upon his patience. Mean- 
while I fear this chunk of shade she calls her 
mother loves her not, and that my friend will 
be too ignorantly tripped unless some one do 
look sharp after him. 

And thus they are to be deceived 
By foe in skirts, if once believed — 
But both their hearts must be retrieved 
Ere fate hath either grossly grieved, 
And from this scheme so filled with bitter hate, 
I must protect my friend at any rate. \Exit. 

Scene II. Room in the Nevell mansio7i. 

Enter First Maid, singing. 
1st M. Jack and Jill went up the hill. 
Come, my honey, come along. 
Jack's poor heart would not be still. 

Come, my honey, come; 
Yet his modesty forbade, 

Come, my honey, come along, 
His proposal to the maid. 
Come, my honey, come. 
Enter other Maids and Waiting Woman. 
2nd M. Our young mistress has been packed 
off to the country, Matty. 

1st M. Yes, our young mistress has been 



A Fair Fraud, i§ 

packed off to the country, for her health, they 
say; as though she didn't have health enough 
already. If her stepmother's legs were not 'in- 
tended for the rogue's march my eye 's a false 
witness. 

W. W. Well, I have seen some things to 
wonder at. 
Some days ago, while walking down the path, 
I came so close to madam, unobserved, 
That I could hear her speak. Within her hand 
She held a paper wrinkled up, and said 
In tragic tones, like Keene upon the stage, 
<<It was a bold, courageous act — I may 
Be forced to do't!" Then moved she on, and 

coming 
Up I took the paper, reading how 
A murderous uncle had made nulJ and void 
The body of his friend to gain a good 
Estate. 

1st M. There! O, I'd rather trust a jew, 
For murder is wiped off their business books. 
But yet her pranks cost me no lack of sleep 
Long as she pays my wages when she ought. 

SrAi M. 'Tis a draw between a sour man 
who pays his debts with a snarl and a sweet 
woman who puts you off with a smile; this 
is one of life's queer divisions. Here are we 
surrounded with luxury not our own and are 



i6 A Fair Fratid. 

more gay than the true possessors of it; this is 
another. 

27id M. And since she is not happy joy is 
not 
With valued lands and money to be got, 
Which is another curious funny thing. 

W. W. The curse of wealth is in the weight 
of it, 
Which never yet sat lightly on the back. 
And like the heavy pressure on the rose, 
Too much do crush the perfumed sweetness out 
And spoil all nature's beauty. 

2nd 31. It sounds well enough in poetry 
but 'tis money makes the mare go. 

1st M. Aye, and in these days 'tis nothing 
but dough, dough even in the kitchen. 

{Exeunt. 
Enter Madame Nevell. 
M. N. If he but comes then will I fill his 
brain 
So full of morbid melancholy as 
A poppy's full of poison. I'm fruitful now 
Of evil thoughts as ever Pluto was, 
But rather than come in black terror clothed 
I will put on the pure cloak of love 
And charity and so beat down his guard 
With the soft touch of sympathy. The fool! 
Enter Servant with card. 




Content all day 
To dream o'er fantasies. 



A Fair Fraud. ig 

Go show him in. 

{Servant retires. Madame Nevell takes jewels 
from case, puts them on., admiring their effect 
before the mirror.) 

How beautiful these rare 
Old jewels are! The gem of honesty 
Is not worth half so much. For these I'd rob 
My dearest friend: aye, murder even for these: 
Dare to go down in hell as Orpheus for 
His wife. And did my husband think his 

daughter 
Homely that he needs give her these charms 
To hide fresh beauty's want? Would it were 

so! 
But 'tis not — for he loved her more than me. 
If not all these sweet jewels — 

(kisses them and puts them away,) 

aye, and this, 
And this, and all he would have given me 
Nor questioned it— but I will have them yet, 
Else shall my mind its cunning moods forget. 

Enter Morisseau. 
Most welcome, sir. Pray you be seated. You 
Must needs accept the hospitality 
Of age, youth being absent. 

^. Absent? 

M. N. Yes, 

My daughter did a sudden notion take 



20 A Fair Fraud. 

To see her country friends some distance out 
And straightway went. (Si(/hs.) 

M. I'm sure some worthy cause 

Must justify the act, madam. 

M. N. 'Tis love 

That prompts a mother's heart to lie. 

M. I do 

Not understand you quite — 

M. N. You are an honest 

Man, or such the world do give you credit 
For. You're young and of ability 
And may do good to some if you but have 
The proper guidance. 

M. I am pleased with such 

A good opinion, madam. 

M. N. 'Tis for this 

That I — O, why does duty press so hard 
Upon me! {Weeps.) 

M. Why! how is this? I beg your pardon, 
Madam, but as honest friend I'll be 
Your servant too. 

M. N". I pray your friendship for 

My daughter has not grown so deep you may 
Not root it out? 

31. That would I not, indeed, 

Nor could I if I would. You do me wrong 
To think I would desert my honest friends 
Because they need some service rendered them. 



A Fair Fraud. 21 

M. N. I seek but your own happiness in 

this — 
31, And that you cannot find unless you 
seek 
Your daughter's too. My love for her dwells 

with 
My soul, madam, nor will I give them up 
Nor them divide again. My presence now 
Is but to know my good or evil fortune 
From her lips that gave me leave to hope. 
M. N. Duty too long delayed! How blind, 

blind, blind! 
M. I beg you speak not so in riddles, madam. 
M. N. She left no word, no note, no any- 
thing 
To mark she thought of you. I fear the curse 
That claimed so many of her kin has fallen 
Upon her too. 

M. Your words, madam, are not 

As painful to me as your silence is. 

31. JV. I'll so far blame you as to say you 
are 
As careless, sir, as other men. Were you 
To buy a horse or lands you would be sure 
Upon the title of it was no blot. 
But when you deal in love you trust all things 
Unto a pretty face. And had you known 
My daughter's lineage it would have spared 



22 A Fair Fraud. 

You this sharp pain my duty bids me bring. 
For know you, sir, insanity's the taint 
That's in the family blood. 'Twas in a mad- 
house 
That her sister died: her brother was 
Fanatic, and it was the wretched cause 
That led astray some others farthei back. 
O, had I guessed the depth of your intentions, 
Or the charm my daughter held upon 
You, I would have acquainted you with this 
Our hidden grief, when first we learned to like 
You. But not dreaming that the blossom of 
Your love would come to sudden fruit, I did 
Delay nor am I blameless for it. 

M. You do 

Not mean this curse has fallen upon Adele? 

M. N. O, not so many gross mistakes Pve 
made 
But that I wish this were another one — 
It is so like her own sweet sister went. 
'Twas but the morn of yesterday she seemed 
As free from care and happy as a child, 
But taking up a cursed book her eye 
Caught on some lines upon theosophy; 
She feasted on them as a starving man 
Upon a juicy roast. She read them o'er 
And o'er, saying at last that they were meant 
For her! 



A Fair Fraud. 23 

M. (Aside.) Religion is the common rock 
they drift upon — 

31. N. Straitway she walks the floor, 

Her eyes cast down, and only after many 
Times being questioned would she deign to 

speak, 
And only then to say "the first duty 
Of sinners is reflection." Then a sudden 
Notion coming to her mind she said 
That she was called unto some quiet place 
To meditate and needs must go at once. 
And all entreaties of her friends and me 
Of no avail. Being related to 
A worthy family near Papillon 
Our greatest efforts could but guide her there: 
God grant the change of air may purge her 

mind 
Of every morbid fancy. 

M. I say devout 

Amen to that, madam. The quickest way 
Shall take me where she is, and if a lover 
Ever faithful was unto his love 
So will I be to mine! 

M. N". No! I pray you no! 

You know full well how unmoved quietness 
Is the essential remedy for such 
A troubled mind. I beg you stay awhile 
And it shall be my pleasure to advise 



24 A Fair Fraua. 

You of her happy mending. I have all 

Needful instructions sent — believe me, she 

Is in good hands, 'mong those who have her 

health 
At heart, but who, being sensitive, may 
Perhaps, resent a lover's interference. 

M. If love were*not my czar. If love did 
follow 
Me, not lead. I am love's slave, and yet 
I would be bound again, thrice bound. I do 
Not fear the frown of painted fashion, madam. 
And where affection is there will I dare 
Maintain that others have no right more just 
Than honest lovers have. My love is not 
The driveling fancy of an idiot 
That's frighted by a dream. My love shall win 
Her back, or if that fails I will be mad 
With her. To bask one moment 'neath her 

glance 
Although its light is never meant for me. 
Is heaven beside hell's doubting darkness here! 

[Exit. 

M. N. Why! His passionate ardor quite 
astounded me! He must not leave me so — 
{rings bell.) For him to meet her now will 
make my plan half failure — {enter butler,) — 
saw you not a gentleman leave me a moment 
since? Go! call him back — and come not back 



A Fair Fraud, 25 

without him — {exit butler.) Such a depth of 
love I was quite unprejoared for. He quite 
forgot his manners in the climax of his scorn. 
My hint was as a spark upon his powdery na- 
ture — {re-enter butler). 

But. I used my utmost haste, madame, but 
he had gone before I reached the entrance. 

M. N". Gone? And dare you come and tell 
me he is gone! So, for thy laggard servicel — 
{knocks him doicn.) \_Exit. 

Enter Maid Seevaxts. 

Serva7its — {severally)-0 — A swoon — Are you 
dead, sir?— 'Tis a fit. 

But. Aye, 'twas a god fit, and well put on, 
too. 

Ser. What took you off your legs, sir? 

But. Mark you now 'twas so: 'twas broad 
day; then suddenly came a storm and a strong 
blow and seeing stars, I fell down in won- 
der. 

Servants — {severally) — Strange! [^Exeunt. 

But. Aye, you inquisitive growth of a rib! 

[Exit. 
Scene III. A vxdk. 
Enter Adele and Madame Nevell. 

A. I am agrowing weary, mother mine, 
Of this deception, which has not the taste 
To suit my candid mind. I will no more 



26 A Fair Frmtd, 

Of it. 'Tis well enough for you and me, 
I grant, but to deceive these honest folk 
Who never yet have given me cause for it, 
There is the limit of my patience come 
And I will be myself. 

31. N. \yell, belt so — 

Do you know more than I, nor deign to take 
Advice from older lips, then have your way, 
But if your path grows tortuous think not 
'Twas for the want of warning. 

A, But think you 

Time has not proved the virtue of his pledge? 

31. N. 'Tis little love that w ould not last a 
week. 
And if your lover has as little patience 
As his sweetheart, I do fear your bark 
Of happiness will ride a storm sea. 
Better it is to so deceive old friends 
So short a time, for we can make amends, 
Than to be fair and fail into a foolish 
Future for't. Put on your solemn mask — • 
To prove the truth is only duty's task. 

{Exit Adele. 
Enter Mr. and Mrs. Steward. 

3fr. S. Good morning, madam; 'tis a pleas- 
ure early 
Met. 

31. N. I greet you, too, and would I were 



A Fair Fraud, ^7 

As happy as the time, my daughter's mind 
As free from cloud as is the rosy morn. 

Mr. S. This sudden, morbid fancy of our 
neice 
I cannot understand. How she, so young, 
So full of spirit, gay, till now, should grasp 
On such a solemn subject, content all day 
To dream o'er fantasies, is quite beyond 
My ken. 

Mrs. S. Think you there is no other cause? 

M. N. If so I cannot tind it out. She seems 
As one who thinks the welfare of the world 
Upon her mystic meditation hangs. 
Nothing moves her calmness save that magic 
Word, theosophy, then will she lecture 
You unwearied half a day. 

3Ir. S. Strange 'tis 

Indeed. 

31. JV, At first I thought it might be some 
Affection unrequited, love's plans foiled, 
Or loss of dearest friendship, but not so. 
On all such subjects she's as dumb as any 
Close-sealed oyster, saying only that 
Reflection is the seed of all good deeds. 

3Ir. jS. Does she not in well graced society. 
Music or other entertainment show 
Some interest? 

31. N. None — but she rather looks 



28 A Fair Frattd, 

Upon them all as things not for the time 
Of brooding minds divinely called. 

Mr. S. To me 

It is a melancholy mystery. 

Mrs. S. And will you with us madam? 

M. JV. Soon as I 

Have grown aweary of your country morn. 

[Exeunt severally. 
ScEXE IV. A garden: Carroty at work. 
Enter Madame Mevell. 

M. N. My good gardener, I have heard 
there is a crazy neighbor who hath habit of 
awandering around about, is it not so? 

C. It hath been my experience, madam, 
that we need never go far to find lunatics. 

M. N. An old crazy farmer who lost his 
boy in the war; know you of such? 

C. Ah!' 'twas a case of too much love, man 
for man. 'Tis as scarce as wild flowers in 
winter. 

M. N. Well, so it is. Where is his daily 
walk? 

C. On the earth, madam. But if you wish 
explicit direction 'tis through the entry, o' the 
north side of the road; and he travels from east 
to west one way, and if he comes back o' the 
same path from west to east when he returns. 

M. N. He goes forth so every day? 



A Fair Fraud, 2g 

C. Ten o'clock i' the morn, as sure as an 
idiot hath no wit. 

M. N. I thank you. [Exit. 

(7. 'Tis easy said. 

Enter Harford. 

n. How far is it old gardener to Papillon? 

C. Well, do you go forward like a man 'tis 
but a few whiffs, but if, like a crab, you go 
backwards they do say i' the books 'tis some 
twenty- five thousand miles. 'Tis a free coun- 
try, sir, and you may go which way you choose. 

H. You have some wit, it seems. 

C . Seems, sir, is of no value. He who 
knows something may be excused for forc- 
ing it upon the public. We thank no man to 
go about mouthing his doubts. And again, if 
we be given seventy years of strength and 
spend part in some worthless exercise of the 
jaw we shall not live our given time. 

H. I fear, friend, the light of your wisdom 
hath affected your head. 

C. 'Twould be a compliment to a philoso- 
pher, sir, but a gardener's wisdom should be in 
his hands, and a dancer's in his legs, so every 
limb is the head of some life and keeps the 
body clothed. 

H. I swear I like thee well! Come now we 
will agree: I do not like the shady substance 



30 A Fair Fraud. 

that left you a moment since. 

C. Aye, we'll agree on that. 

H. Now, why did she so desire the particu- 
lars of this unfortunate man's habit? 

C. The words are yours but I am equal 
owner of the thought. 

H. This grows a more and more entangled 
knot: 
Keep, gardener, the mystery and doubt, 
I go to build a plan to find it out. \Exit. 

C. If there were one fool he'd be accounted 
wise, but being many 'tis a common thing — Hi! 
there, keep off the grass! you web-footed, me- 
andering ducks — can't you put both o' your 
feet in a five-foot path a' once? (Enter maid 
servants.) One may dig and trim and trim 
and dig and sweat to overcome the defects of 
nature and have the work of his genius de- 
spoiled by a cook. 

1st S. Terum, terum, terum, Carroty. 
What's the trouble with the crazy young lady, 
Carroty? 

C. They do say she's affected with lunacy. 

2nd S, We're not deaf to rumors. 

1st jS, But the cause. Carroty, the cause? 

C. She was troubled too much wi' her 
friends. 

Srd S. We know. We have the advantage 



A Fair Frmcd, 31 

of you, Carroty. 

C. Ah! woman hath one advantage over 
man, she can wipe her nose in her skirts. 

l8t jS. Our wisdom goes beyond you in 
this, Carroty; the cause of the young lady's 
lunacy is religion, sir. 

C. She could stumble upon no better thing, 
I warrant. 

2nd S. And the young gentleman who is 
in love with her is nigh mad too. 

C 'Tis the best thing he could do to be 
nigh her if his mind be affected wi' the same 
matter. 

1st >S. Come, good Carroty, may we have 
some of your roses? 

C. No! no, no, no — thou dost treat me so 
shabbily thou shalt have none of my flowers 
unless thou dost bring a filled out order signed 
in my master's blood. 

1st jS. Come, Carroty, we have been so 
thievish as to steal a bottle of wine for thee; 
'tis waiting in the kitchen, come along now. 

3rd S. Come along Carroty. 

C. No! no, no, no — I must needs finish my 
bed- 
is^ /S. Thy bed! The grave-digger shall 
finish thy bed for thee in good time. Come 
along, (one puts a rose in his lapel,) — now thou 



32 A Fair Fraud, 

art a i^roper ladies' man, go along — 

C. Yes, yes! Ye need not so much pull 
and push 
Both fore and aft — I will both come and go, 
Can I but please these boisterous maidens so. 

\Exeunt, 

ACT II. 
Scene I. A garden: Carroty adeep. 
Enter Adele, cautiously . 
■ A. Oh I I am so pent up with gaiety 
That I could kick the moon! 'Tis well enough 
To play a part if you but have companions. 
But such a solitary mummy as I — 
O, I must ope my woman's heart somewhere. 
Now here's a case where virtue dwelleth under 
A red wig, Carroty's honest, for 
The world has proved him such. He is an old 
Man of some wit, and if he but o'erlook 
Deception we shall go on swimmingly: 

{loakes him up,) 
I am going to make a confidant of you. 
Friend Carroty. 
G. Ah! 

A. I am going to make 

A confidant of you. 

C. I never have 

Been false to any of your kindred, miss. 




Carroty in Youth. 
Only authentic photograph extant. 



A Fair Fraud, s§ 

A. Indeed, you've been an honest servant, 
sir, 
My uncle do attest to it, and while 
He lives your virtue will not drive you begging. 

C. I have two desires, miss: that I 
May die before him, and that my old hands 
May rot where they wrought. 

A. Tut, tut; let others 

Arrange our funerals: but come we to 
My confidence. This must needs be a dark 
Secret, and I fear your illumined locks 
Will give us too much light. 

C. Faith, miss, as I'm 

A christian I will break the law and hide 
It 'neath my bushel. [Puts on his hat.) 

A. A good answer to 

A gay jest. 

C. Aye — there are some honest wits. 

A. And flattery is, sometimes sweet though 
'tis 
Our own physic. Now what I tell to thee 
In confidence no one must know, not even 
My uncle. 

G . [Aside.) She is a queer idiot. 
Miss, on this subject I am deaf and dumb 
And blind, and if you wish, rheumatic too. 

A. 'Tis this — I am in love. 

O. [Aside.) Ah! a sure sign. 



S6 A Fair Fraud, 

A. Did I so much surprise you that you've 
lost 
Your ready tongue? 

C. It was a thunderbolt, 

Miss, from a clear sky. 

A. Then am I old 

Or homely that you think fair cupid would 
So stear his course far off? 

C. Ah, no! 'Twas that 

Fair cupid had so long delayed his wing. 

A, And have you seen a worthy gentleman 
Of princely mien, well dressed in gray, around 
About of late? 

(J. Now let me see — me see — 

Why I have seen a man in gray, but I 
Would only notice him from others for 
His coat. 

A. I will agree he was so dressed. 
But as for being like all other men 
It is not so; I'll quarrel, sir, on thati 

C. I will amend, I will amend! He was, 
Now I bethink myself, compound of many 
Men: Beau Brummel for attire, but 
King Solomon for sageness; Horatius 
For courage and Apollo in his bearing. 
He, too, was dressed in gray: perhaps 'twas he. 

A. Well, that do please me better if it is 
A lie. 'Tis him I love, and so to try 



A Fair Fraud. j; 

The temper of his vowed affectioD, I 

Have put on this strange, tedious habit, which 

My uncle thinks is true insanity. 

Is it not a good test? 

C. Aye I If a man 

Stick to a lunatic he will not tiee 
From any married state. 

A. Now I must needs 

Keep up my exercise, good Carroty. 
Ask me but any question and observe 
How I display this melancholy masque. 

C. Faith, is the old moon red? 
{jiside^) Now am I mixt— 
Was she crazy before, or is she now? 
How old was Caesar when he crossed the stream? 

A. "And afterwards they returned to Urish- 
"lem from the mount which is called the place 
*'of Olives, which is over against Urishlem, 
"and distant from her as seven stadias. And 
''after they had entered, they ascended to that 
"upper room in which w^ere Petros, and Juhan- 
''on, and Jakub, and Andros, and Philipos, 
''and Thoma, and Mathi, and Bar Tolmai, and 
"Jakub bar Halphai, and Shemun the Zealous, 
"and Jihuda bar Jakub." Oh! — teium, terum, 
terum, terum. 

C. "Terum, terum, terum" is good latin, 
Miss, or I'm no scholar else. 



jS A Fair Fraud. 

A. 'Tis the same 

Thing, Carroty, some grating discord to 
The foreign ear. Aye, it is better, too, 
For meaning nothing in the beginning 
It save us much trouble to find it out — 
It is a great world. 

C. True, but not so large 

As a millionaire's dream. 

A. Why, then, how large 

Is that? 

C. Faith, they do wish to wear the stars 
Upon their bosoms, miss. 

A. ' Well let them dream, 

For in their waking hours they get no further 
Than the chain and balls of business — 
But play I well the part? 

C. Well, passing well — 

You cannot do it better till you're old. 
And glassed, and wrinkled, and do have a sour 
Nature; for how can we cease to smile 
As long as love do fill the eyes and sit 
Upon the cheek? 

A. If every note of failure 

Were so clothed in compliment who would 
Hope for success? But mind you not one w^ord 
Of this unto my uncle. If you do 
But wink to him where I may see you do't, 
I will forswear companions of your sex, 



A Fair Fraud. jg 

I swear't by all the oaths known i' the books! 
I am so full of roguery that I 
Will kiss thee if thou wilt go shave thy face 
So I can find thee out. 

C. These old cheeks, miss, 

Are more used to the rough winds of heaven 
Than the perfumed breath of beauty. Thou 
Mayst use me for receptacle to put 
Dark secrets in, but no, I .warrant thee, 
Thou shalt not feed upon my whiskers, no. 

A, Sweet are the compliments of honest age. 
A step — his step! I've learned to know his 
step — 

Enter Moeisseau. 

M. I beg your pardon, but I cannot keep 

Away. Still wHth your thumbed, w^ell studied 

book. 
Come teach me, too, your madness, will you 

not? 
O, sweetheart, speak to me again in words 
That drifted dow^n like Orpheus' waking*notes. 
A. I, to, was vain like this — list you to this: 
''All the perceptive activities of the astral 
"body of our astral race have been united un- 
''der the name of the sixth sense; these are 
"clairvoyance, clairaudience, psychometry, the 
"faculty of distinguishing spiritual atoms and 



40 A Fair Fraud. 

"of discerning spiritual savors. In this frame- 
"work can be grouped all phenomena of tele- 
apathy which are actually studied by psycho- 
"physiologists, those due to exteriorisation of 
"the sensibility and to other little known phys- 
"ical agents, such as light." 

M. My love, I pray you not so tax your 
mind. 

A. "Here is, in any case, a trial synthetic 
"classification of the astral phenomena which 
"may present themselves to us: Demons, Dev- 
"ils, Satan, Lucifer, Magic Activities, Genii, 
"Angels." Ah, what beauty's here! 

M. Would I could see it too. 

O, love — nor think me bold to call you so, 
If pity be akin to love then pity 
Me, and let some drops of charity 
And kindness fall upon my stricken heart. 

A. "The silver star now twinkles out the 
"news to the night blossoms. The streamlet 
"to the pebbles ripple out the tale; dark ocean 
"waves will roar it to the rocks surf-bound; 
"scent-laden breezes sing it to the vales, and 
"stately pines mysteriously whisper, 'A Mas- 
" 'ter has arisen, a Master of the Day.' He 
"standeth now like a white pillar to the west, 
"upon whose face the rising sun of Thought 
"Eternal poureth forth its first most glorious 



A Fair Fraud, 41 

"waves. **Behold the mellow light that floods 
"the Eastern sky. In songs of praise both 
"heaven and earth unite. Hark, from the deep 
"unfathomable vortex of that golden light in 
"which the victor bathes, all Nature's word- 
"less voice in thousand tones ariseth to pro- 
"claim: A pilgrim hath returned back 'from 
"'the other shore.' Peace to all beings! 
"Peace!" \Exit. 

Scene II. A road. Laughter. 
Enter Gypsies, some with musical instruments. 
1st Maiden. Ha, ha! 'Twas a good joke- 
So we'll be gay 
To speed away 
A tedious day. 
1st Man. No camp in sight — 

'Twill soon be night. 
1st Maid. So you are right. 
2nd Maid. 'Tis a long march hath no halt. 
1st Maid. We are some distance ahead of 
the queen — 

Come now a song 
To cheer along 
This wandering throng 
of gypsies. 
(gypsies— {severally)— YLi, Hi!— Well said- 
Come strike some music there! 



42 



A Fair Fraud. 



GYPSY SONG. 



.A.vTo^sc 




Fond memory, come again, 

Bear our souls away, 
Fond memory, come again 

To these homes of clay; 
Fond memory, come, we pray, 

Where the wanderers roam, 
On your downy wings away 

Bear us back at home! 

Chorus: A gipsy band in foreign land, {dance) 
Wandering, awandering. 
Homeless, friendless, journey endless, 
Wandering, awandering. 

Fond memory, all the years 

Brush for us away. 
Make all the frosty meers 

Ripple with the May; 
And the charm of Oberon 

Put upon the lid. 
Wake us where our hearts are gone, 

Where our loves are hid! 
Chorus: 



A Fair Fraud, 43 

Wanderers there are but none 

Who forget the time, 
When the web of life they spun 

O'er the growing thyme — 
Fond memory, pray redeem 

Days that passed us then, 
Let the dream of childhood seem 

Real once again! 

Chorus: 

Sometime will hearts grow young 

And wan cheeks grow red, 
And love, with charms unsung, 

Spring from ruins spread; 
Fond memory, till that day, 

Come where wanderers roam, 
On your downy wings away 

Bear us back at home! 

Chorus: 

Enter Gypsy Queen. 
G, Q, Go on, ye vagabonds. 

And make your footsteps light, 
We must seek out some sparkling pond, 
And camp before 'tis night. [Exeunt. 

Scene III. A wood. 
Enter Harford and Carroty, 
H. Come, Carroty, we'll hide behind the 
tree. 
And soon enough we'll see what we shall see. 
{They conceal thenu 



44 ^ P^i^ Fraud. 

Btuter Madame Nevell axd.Morisseatj. 

3f. N'. I fear, sir, that the atmosphere will 
not 
So benefit her as we fondly hoped. 

31. It seems not in the air to cure a mind 
So sadly overthrown. 

31. N". So do our last 

Hopes crumble one by one — O! — 

M. What affrights 

You, madam? 

{JEnter Lunatic, unshaven, in threadbare 
gray, one leg of trousers in top of boot, carry- 
ing red handkerchief. He mumbles to himself) 
lohirls his handkerchief about and every feio 
m,oments throws his left hand up before his 
face as though to guard himself. Runs and 
walks alternately ; goes across back of stage 
and out.) 

31. N. Her brother! 

31. Brother? 

3f. N. Saw you 

Not him? 

3f. I saw but an eccentric man 
Pass down across the path. 

31. N. Alas! 'twas he — 

M. Her brother? 

3f. iV. My misfortune needs must plague 
Me. Knew you not 'twas hereabouts he led 
His wandering life? Hist! comes he now this 
way— 



A Fair Fraud. ^5 

Ah! so it i» the mind doth make the body 
Poor as well as rich. 

Enter Lunatic. 
L. Ah! My, but there'll be a war— ha, ha! 
Say, don't you think there'll be a war? The 
prince of Europe is a mason, and England and 
Russia and Abyssinia entered into a conspiracy 
against us, and they are buying the mountains 
and putting forts on them— yes, 'tis true, true, 
true! And when they get them built they will 
defy the government— defy! defy! defy!— and 
make all free men slaves again. Then will we 
be called to victory, and the souls of the dead 
soldiers will return and fight against the prince 
of Europe, and he will be overthrown and 
drowned with all his army in the red sea— ha, 
ha! They can't whip us, can they? My, but 
there'll be a war!— I know, I know, I know! 

{Exit. 
M. N. O, why should I be cursed with so 
much sorrow 
As do fill up my too long life. 

^- I marvel 

Much, madam, that one whose reason was 
Deranged o'er thoughts of peace and heaven 

should so 
Run ever on on war and evil deeds. 

M. N. 'Tis but his changing mood; tomor- 
row it 



46 A Fair Frmtd. 

Will be upou the death of some old friend, 
Next day the wrath of heaven, and next upon 
A blighted love that never did exist, 
And so and so as doth the madness take him. 
O, heart of mine, to sorrow for a kin 
Whose too much virtue is their only sin. 

[^Exeunt. 
Enter Careoty and Harford. 

H. Well, old sunshine, what see you in 
such serious case to laugh at? If you must 
hold your sides at least let loose your tongue 
and give your wind some shape. Did you 
discover aught? 

C. 'Tis an old plot in a new dress. Faith, 
and she would have our worthy young friend 
believe the crazy old neighbor is brother to his 
love; there's humor in that. Believe you in 
the resurrection? 

n. Aye, if it be true. 

C. If it be true this old schemer is the risen 
shade of Ananias masquerading in petticoats — 
but she shall run into the hangman's noose do 
she keep following her nose. 

n. 'Tis a long lane hath no turn. Carroty. 

C. And a virtuous man that hath no "pull," 
but the Lord must needs let satan have some 
servants if He would have him govern his own. 

H. Hist I the old shade returns. Go vou 



A Fair Fraud. ^7 

forward, Carroty, I'll overtake your steps. 

\Exit Carroty. 
Enter Madame Nevell. 
M. N. Ah! 'tis a pleasure, sir, unwarranted. 
H. And why not say it is unwelcome, too. 
M. N. You spare my tongue so much of 
exercise. 

ff. It serves me better do I keep your 
thoughts 
Busy. What is the latest trick, my good 
Madam? 

31. N. Why this: a fool in black would find 
Out how I deal the cards, and so do have 
His trouble for reward. This is, perchance, 
Some news to you who have been juggling with 
Wisdom and ignorance so much you know 
Not 'tis the later you possess. 

B. So is 

A learned man a poor detective, madam, 
And my little knowledge you do wish 
Were yet some little less. This devotion 
Unto your ward hath brought you from your 

way, 
For which we humbly thank your lovely nature. 
If you will tell me some few details of 
Your future plans it will save me the work 
To find them out. How came you here, madam? 

M. AT. O, I am one of those sweet characters 



48 A Fair Fraud. 

You read of in the books, aud fly where e'er 
I list. 

H. So have I heard the spirits of 
The nether sphere had wings but never thought 
'Twas true. 

M. N. Sir! 

H. Aye, stir thy anger up somewhat, 

There's no love lost betw^een us. Come, you are 
Unequal matched, madam. 1 know your studied 
Game. Why do you so persist in evil 
While you still have chance to live undreamed 
Of wrong? 

M. N. I'll take the blame may come. 

H. But not 

The sorrow, madam. 

31. N. As to that I will 

So far be honest as to ask where does 
Your interest center, sir? 

H. Why, then, there are 

Some several points I will enumerate: 
First, being my friend's friend I wuU be-friend 
Him; and second and third, I know you seek 
The evil of tw^o lives, and so how can 
A man better employ his idleness 
Than to defend the truth? 

M. N. O, virtuous! 

But better men have stumbled in their paths. 

[Exit. 




A man of adventure and 
Acquainted with the world. 



A Fair Fraud, 51 

Noise. Enter Carroty icith Foresters. 

C. A queer tale these honest wood-choppers 
are mouthing, sir. 

1st F. Aye, sir; it be down i' the woods, 
sir. One dressed in gray, of good appearance, 
too — 

C. Your friend, sir, who's in love, 'tis he. 

27id F. He seemed not to want, I warrant 
that. 

3rd F. We will agree on that. 

1st F. Being neat dressed, and a stranger, 
we saw fit to look after him, sir; a good thing, 
a passing good thing, as it proved i' the sequel. 

Foresters. Aye, aye! 

1st F. He saw us not, sir, as he passed in 
downcast, ugly mood, as if he was, perchance, 
upon some bad resolve. When but some dis- 
tance from us he did stop; 'twas but some feet, 
eh, friend? 

2nd F. Some fifty feet or so I think it was. 

3rd F. More — 'twas sixty feet at least. 

1st F. Not so; 'twas scarce two score, or I 
know not the length of my ax handle. 

27id F. 'Twas fifty feet! I do know a yard 
i' my eye better than a tailor by 's stick. 

1st F. We will agree if thou w41t make al- 
lowance for thy squint, thou — 

H. Tut, tut — I care not if it was sixty or 



§2 A Fair Frmtd. 

six thousand feet; come to a point with all your 
words. What happened then? 

l8t F. Then, sir, suddenly drawing a revol- 
ver from his coat, tight did he close his teeth 
and put it to his head. 

H. Well, fool, go on! 

Ist F. There he would ha' caused desti'uc- 
tion to his flesh had I not — 

Uth F. 'Twas as much I, I warrant. 

3rd F. Myself beheld the murderous action 
first, when I made rush to knock away his hand. 

H. [Aside.) O, these prating fools! Pray 
you be still and let this man proceed. 

1st F. It was like this: taking his revolver, 
so, he shut his mouth hard, so, and placed it 
against his head, so. 

C. {Aside.) Strange how he could place his 
mouth against his head, so. 

1st F. Then did we grab him, sir, and took 
his weapon from him 'gainst his will, and were 
besting what to do when he, the gardener, 
came up, and said we must so tell this thing to 
you. Here is the weapon, sir. There being 
seven balls, we took one each, so none can use 
it now unless he takes the stock to beat his 
silly brains out. 'Tis of no use to us, being 
honest men — 'tis yours to keep. 

H. I thank you for the compliment. 



A Fair Fraud. ss 

Foresters — (sez;era//y)— Welcome, indeed, sir 
— We ask no pay, sir — 'Tis yours, sir. 

H. Where went he when you gave him 
leave to walk? 

1st F. Yes, true enough. Then did he say 
that death 
Was better than a life without the light 
Of love. I think, sir, he is love- sick, sir. 
Do you have influence you had best see 
Him married to some maid or else he will 
Go mad, I warrant you. 

2nd F. One who would die 

For love would murder, sir, for jealousy, 
And so his bride had best be chary of 
Her smiles. 

1st F. To finish, sir, we so disarmed 
Him as I have made known, and let him go 
His way, then found we you and so the tale 
Is told. 

H. Good men, 1 thank you for an act 
Of kindness. Carroty, come we to find 
This morbid man of melancholy mind. 

[^Exeunt. 

ACT in. 

Scene I. A wood. Gypsy camp in background. 
Enter Harford and Morisseau. 
M. Come, friend, now am I blue. Can you 
not crack 
A joke? 



54 ^ Fair Fraud. 

H, The heavens are blue but the earth 
Is green, and you, being of the earth, earthy, 
Must needs be green; but soon enough the au- 
tumn 
Of experience will color your 
Life differently, else I am no sage. 

M. If I live long enough. 

H. And there was once 

A sparrow built her nest in a rainbow. 

M. Come, come; season your humor with 
some little 
Sense. 

H. It is as possible as man 
To build his happiness upon a woman. 

M. I will not gainsay that; we are not happy 
With them and unhappy still without them, 
So in our little, troubled realm we're walled. 

H. Very true, too true. As long as all 
paths lead 
Unto the cemetery there'll be tears. 
And since the thorny path of love you choose 
To tread, I'll help you gather this fair rose 
You call the sweet Adele. You say there is 
Taint of insanity within the blood: 
That you have seen her brother, lunatic, 
That I say 's but a crazy neighbor who 
Has lost his boy in the war: that her sister 
Died fanatic, that it is the cause 
Of her bewitching stepmother's sadness. 



A Fair Fraud. S5 

And that you cannot doubt your open gaze, 
But that you will more readily believe 
My argument avowing it to be 
A trumped up lie, if I but show you proof. 
M. It is a friend of friends that sticks when 

doubted. 
H. A better one who shows us our mistakes. 
See you those gypsies there? Good fortune 

brought 
This strolling band so near us, nor have we 
So stumbled upon them by accident — 
I have for purpose brought you here, and have 
Arranged with Carroty, the gardener, 
To bring you-r love, the fair Adele, hither, 
That she may be some little entertained, 
To break the country's dull monotony. 
They will be here even now. Come we and step 
Behind this mask of shrubbery, and I 
Will show you that your sweetheart's lunacy 
Goes not beyond her uncle's outer gate. 

\Exeunt. 
Enter Carroty and Adele. 
C . This is a rough log, miss, but 'tis the 
best 
Chair in the tangled parlor of the woods. 

A. And good enough — it were no better 
wood 
When sawed, planed and artistically carved. 
Go see if you can come to terms with them. 



§6 A Fair Fraud. 

{Carroty brings Gypsy Queen forward.) 

C. Here is a good lady who, being city 
Born and bred, grows weary of the country's 
'Customed dullness, and will pay thee well 
For entertainment of a half an hour. 

A. Yes, better than many a worthy troupe 
Is paid. Can any of you sing? — and dance? 

G. Q. Our stomachs would be often empty 
else. 

A. Here's money in advance; can you but do 
Some few good acts there's more of it to come. 
Come, Carroty, sit you upon this tree, 
And if the play be good applaud with me. 
{Gypsies sing, etc.) 

C. Was that well done, according to the 
code? 

A. I could not do it half so well myself, 
Yet would I rather hear my lover woo 
Than list the sweetest nightingale of song. 
{Gypsies dance, etc.) 

C. O, that was a good step, miss. 

A, I could kick 

Higher, I vow, but not in so good time. 
Come, old queen of the woods, if you but tell 
Our fortunes now you may wish us God -speed. 
Will I grow old and wrinkled like the rest? 

G. Q. Aye, miss, all in good time; you 
shall be happy 
First. 



A Fair Fraud, ^^j 

A. Why that's well said. 
G, Q, You are an actress, 

And do play your part well, but not to 
Your lover's satisfaction, whom you would 
The rather please than all the others, miss. 
A, Well, that's true, too. 
(jr. Q. And you are blest with much 

Of this worlds chattels, but an honest husband 
Is dame fortune's happiest gift — as I 
Do love all youth I would advise you take 
It while you may. I am an honest reader 
Of the lines and tell you all the truth. 

A. Tis true enough and so it is enough. 
Now Carroty, your life being some more spent, 
Your future will not cost so much to read. 
C. No! — no, no, no. I am too much re(a)d 

now. 
A. Here's gold, old queen, to keep you on 

the way. 
G. Q. God bless you, miss. 
A. What pranks we play 

To chase the tedious dullness from a day. 

[Mxeu7it Carroty and Adele. 
Enter Harford and Mobisseau. 
H. Now do you have misfortune on the hip; 
Trust me a little longer we will throw 
It off completely. Two o'clock tomorrow 
Meet me where the paths cross over in yonder 
Woodland see you do no fail the time 



SS A Fair Frmid, 

Or j^lace, and I will make all things as plain 
As any good old fashioned methodist. \JExexint. 
Scene II. Another part of the wood. 
Enter Hakfoed, then Adele. 

A. I have seen an old church look gray in 
the morning mist — 

H. Ah! I've seen a maiden worthy to be 
kissed. Lay off your foolishness, my fair fraud. 
I know you do but play a part. 

A. Sirl 

H. I know full well your tedious game to 
test a lover's heart, and more than that, I know 
your scheming stepmother plays for stakes you 
do not thank her for. 

A. How dare you slander, coward- like, in 
presence of a lady, sir! 

H. Why, how is this? Where is your luna- 
cy? — ha, ha! You do but show a woman's reas- 
onable anger, I warrant you. Don't be a fool. 
It is your own unwary scheme that has 
So nearly cost the life of him you love. 
There are some foolish lovers who care not 
For truth, and there are those whose earnestness 
No plummet ever sounded: he is such. 

A. And if he pays according to the merits 
Of your speech you need not starve or beg. 

H. I have o'er looked the doubtings of a 
friend 
For friendship's sake, and the sarcasm of 



A Fair Fraud, 59 

Acquaintances I do not deign to note. 
I say your sweet stepmother has not put 
You on in pleasant innocence alone, 
But seeks to keep you and your love apart 
That she the more may easily be rid 
Of you when comes the time. O, do not start, 
For wealth hath charms have tempted women to 
Worse things than that. And would you see 
the proof? 

A. I am not ^blind or deaf, nor do I wish 
To be. 

H. Then do you but conceal yourself 
Some time behind those shrubs, you shall both 

see 
And hear; trust me as far as this — it comes 
Of good intent. 

A. O, I will humor you, 

For I do think you are more mad than I. 

{^Conceals herself.) 
Enter Moeisseau. 

H. How is it, friend, have you grown gay 
again. 
That you do smile today? 

M. Ah! you have rolled 

Away some gathered clouds and life begins 
To wear a rosy hue again. 'Tis said 
The ignorant do laugh and wise men smile, 
But little difference doth it make as long 
As we be tickled. I have had a dream, 



6o A Fair Fraud, 

Perchance a most improbable and misty 
Dream; I dreamed that all you late have told 
To me were true! And yet, I will not hold 
You to my dream, good friend, but if — as I 
Begin to fondly hope — 'tis true, thou shalt 
Confiscate my estate. 

If. I would not have 

Thy care-fraught property, for one must either 
Hold or squander it — I rather would 
Be free. But to the point — the time's affair: 
By happy combination I've contrived 
To have our wingless flatterer to meet 
Me in these woods. Multum i7i parvo, sir, 
My plan is this: You do conceal yourself, 
And where you can both see and hear you shall 
Have plot and story of this perfidy 

Straight from the author's lips. Now vanish — 

sink 
Into the leaves, and if I fail then use 
Me ever for sarcastic ridicule. 

{Morisseau conceals himself.) 
H. If life's a dream, I swear that love's a 
nightmare, and drives the sleep from many a 
drowsy lid. Sweet time of softness! Soft 
breezes, soft moonlight, soft whisperings, eoft 
hearts, soft everything. Now do our maid of 
Athens keep her word. [Takes a mirror from 
his pocket and arranges his tie, etc. Madame 
Nevell enters and attempts to stab him. He sees 



A Fair Fraud. 6i 

her reflection in the mirror and catches her arm 
as it descends.) 

H. So have I found my favor in a glass — 

Je voiis remercie, madame. 

M. N. Sir, you sent 

For me. 

H. But asked you not to make your entrance 
In such murderous manner. 

M. N. Why is it 

That you do seek to thwart my every plan? 

H. My knowledge is my own, but many a 
friendly 
Action has been bought, madam. 

M. N. (Aside.) Why! can 

He mean that I may stop his mouth with money? 
You are a man of adventure and acquainted 
with the world, and know the worth of money 
in any market. 

If. I have shared a crust with a comrade 
and would not be above dividing a fortune with 
an enemy. 

31. N. Well said; I do begin to think you're 
not the moral fool I thought. If you but lend 
assistance to my plans I'll pay you well. 

H. The consideration is the essential part 
of an agreement, madam, (She lohispers.) 'Tis 
not enough. 

3L iV. Then will I double it; is it agreed? 

m. I have done some things for less money, 
madam. 



62 A Fair Fraud. 

M. N. My husband made me sharer of his 
wealth 
Conjointly with this girl. I will be honest, 
rd have it all myself, and two ways open 
To it: either put this girl aside 
Myself or have the law to do't, which latter 
Is too tedious for my patience. I 
Had but laid out my plans when blank misfortune 
Needs must lay her hand upon 't and have 
Her fall in love. Now must you aid to keep 
These two apart. You being friend to him 
Shall so poison his mind as leave no lingering 
Ray of hope. So, severing their offection, 
We will soon be rid of him I 

H. And then? 

M. N. And then? Come stir your wits. 
Why then what is 
More easy than defraud a friendless girl? 
You hesitate? See you this gold? 'Tis but 
The color of the substance shall be yours 
For every friendly act. 

{Ife throics down the 'money and stamps upon it.) 
Ahl how is this? 

H. I would to God I could so stamp upon 
The envy, heart-burnings and anger — aye, 
And crime, this yellow fruit of hell hath been 
The cause of. Children maimed to draw some pity 
On the street. Virtue sold as 'twere 
Mere dross; wives led astray, husbands to prison, 



A Fair Fraud. 63 

Mothers, fathers, gray-grown and wrinkled ere 
Their sun has passed high noon of honest life. 
Gold! gold! Thou sinuous snake infesting every 
Path of life, whose poisoned fang hath sunk 
Into the hearts of emperors and kings — 
Pervertorof the truth and man's most traitorous 
Foe, I scorn thee! Thus do I sign and seal 
Our contract, madam, and call my worthy 
Friends to witness it. {B,nttr Adele, 3Ioris- 
seau, Mr. and Mrs. /Steivard, Carroty^ etc.) 

M. N. Betrayed! 

Mr. S. No, but 

Discovered, madam. 

H. Go! Quick get you hence 

Before we call a tardy law upon 
You. For our leniency thank you this maid, 
Whose honored name you do too meanly bear. 

C. Avant! thou shadow of the Arctic zone, 
With heart of ice. Avant! thou risen shade! 

[Exit Madame Nevell. 

A. I humbly thank you, sir. 

JI. 'Tis all I ask— 

And if you would repent, pray do it at 
The shrine of love. 

3fr. S. And so shall joy's eclipse 

Be quick effaced by touch of lovers' lips. 
The somber follies that the years may send, 
May they be so resolved to happy end. 

[Exeunt. 




.IBiiBli. 




